Of Spiders and Webs
by CattusUmbra
Summary: What happened between the time Loki was captured and his departure with Thor? Someone had to guard him, and the delightful task fell to none other than the Black Widow. WARNING: Content may be triggering for some readers. DubCon/Rape
1. Chapter 1

Loki smiled, a terrible thing to see, a slashing smile that cut. So this was the Black Widow. Her appearance was earlier than expected. Fury lacked the stomach for torture, it seemed. These humans were so weak.

"There's not many people who can sneak up on me."

He said slowly, turning to face her.

"But you figured I'd come." she replied coolly. Loki smiled.

"After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate."

He is truthful in this. Lies are ever more effective when interspersed with truth, wrapping around it as vines on a tree trunk.

"I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton."

Oh, let the Black Widow stay to her own web, Loki thought, even as he widened his eyes innocently and replied.

"I'd say I've expanded his mind."

She frowns at his assessment.

"And once you've won, once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?"

"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" Loki asks, smirking. How easily she walks into his silk spun words.

"Love is for children. I owe him a debt."

"Tell me." Loki asks, sitting down and fixing a look of interest on his face. He already knows everything, thanks to Barton. But let her speak. Interesting things are sure to slip.

And already she betrays herself.

"Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh...well, I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skill set. I didn't care who I used it for, or on. I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call."

Loki knows. Barton's told him many things. While Barton built his arrows, while he worked without sleep, Loki asked for any and all information on those who oppose him. But back to the moment at hand. Of course she was here for Barton. Loki had spoken at length with the agent, seeking information on all those who worked closely with SHIELD.

Under the power of the scepter, Barton could be nothing but honest. Stark was an arrogant, selfish fellow. Brilliant with science, of course, but science was limited in this realm. Stark's behavior could be predicted without fail. The same for the earnest, virtuous Captain. Barton had not met him, of course, but decades of mythology were confirmed by what Loki had seen in Stuttgart. Banner was pitiful, a weak man who hid from his only chance at strength and power.

Fury and Hill were easily dissected, their movements and actions those of the typical government agents with their own ideas. What a lie freedom was, that they sought to create their own paths and authority. Coulson was bland, if competent. But the Widow…

"And what will you do if I vow to spare him?" Loki asked.

"Not let you out-"

"Ah, no. But I like this. Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?"

He had not expected her to let him out, but it never hurt to ask. And her eyes had started to gain a look he was always searching for- that wary caution that meant she was close to letting something slip.

"Regimes fall everyday. I tend not to weep over that, I'm Russian. Or I was."

"And what are you now?"

"It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out."

"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Drakoff's daughter? Sao Paulo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything." Loki says, tasting the fear in her eyes.

"Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer. Pathetic!" He snarls.

"You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away."

He slams his fist against the glass, relishing the way she jumps with fright.

"I won't touch Barton! Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"

She turns away from him, trembling.

"You're a monster." she whispers. She sounds as if she is weeping. Loki smiles.

"Oh, no. You brought the monster."

"So, Banner? That's your play?" she asks, turning. There is not a single tear drop on her cheeks.

"What?" he asks, surprised, as she puts up a hand to activate her ear piece.

"Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Set the door locked."

She drops her hand from the ear piece and nods at Loki.

"Thank you, for your cooperation."

And then she walks away.

Loki sits down again. She may have- impressively, in fact- managed to gather one small part of his plans. But it is nothing vital, and besides, he now has a better measure of her than even Barton could give him. But the Hulk will soon be unleashed, regardless of what she does.

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A/N: I like reviews. Criticisms, critiques, comments, I'll take them all :) Suggestions are welcome too.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki smiles, a terrible thing to see, a slashing smile that cuts.

"There's not many people who can sneak up on me." he says slowly, turning to face her.

She presses a button, and the door to his cell opens briefly, allowing her to walk in. She knows he isn't planning on escaping- not yet. He is far too at ease in this cell.

"But you figured I'd come." she replies coolly. Loki smiles, and gestures for her to sit beside him.

"After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate."

He reaches a hand to her hair and draws a lock through his fingers. She lets him. Brute force against her would gain him nothing- Clint would have told Loki already that if she is compromised, she has ordered Fury to let her die. And besides, she can hold her own in a fight.

"I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton." she asks, as Loki continues petting her hair lightly.

Loki widens his eyes, feigning innocence and replies.

"I'd say I've expanded his mind."

She frowns at his assessment, even as he reaches for the zipper to her catsuit.

"And once you've won, once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?"

"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" Loki asks, smirking as he pulls the fabric down, exposing breasts and stomach and everything else until the cloth catches on her boots. He pulls them off quickly, then finishes discarding her clothing.

"Love is for children. I owe him a debt." she says, turning to find he has vanished his own clothing already

"Tell me." Loki asks, placing a kiss on her neck.

"Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh...well, I made a name for myself."

He nibbles his way down her neck to her spine, hands resting light on her waist.

"I have a very specific skill set. I didn't care who I used it for, or on. I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call."

Now Loki is caressing her hips, pulling her back to rest against his chest. Clint will have told him many things about the her. His "different call" was not entirely based on good sense. Loki knows what she and Clint have done. He knows where, and when, and how. She would bet her life on it. Well, perhaps not her life.

"And what will you do if I vow to spare him?" Loki asks, voice soft against her ear. His hands rise from her hips to her breasts, gripping them tightly as she loves.

"Not let you out-" she says as he tweaks one nipple, then the other.

"Ah, no. But I like this. Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?" One hand stays at her breast, the other slips between her legs to find her sopping wet.

"Regimes fall everyday. I tend not to weep over that, I'm Russian. Or I was." One long, slim finger curls inside her, quickly followed by a second and a third.

"And what are you now?"

"It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out." Her voice is matter of fact, even as she rolls her hips.

"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Drakoff's daughter? Sao Paulo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything." Loki says, yanking his fingers from her and dragging her to her feet.

He presses her face first against the glass as he enters her from behind, one hand gripping her wrists behind her back, the other still clenching her breast.

"Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer. Pathetic!" He snarls, thrusting harder as a low moan escapes from her throat.

"You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away."

He slams into her, one hand now pulling her hair, the other at her throat.

"I won't touch Barton! Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"

He comes inside her, still gripping her tightly by the hair and by the throat. Then, he releases her and pulls out. She trembles, still facing the glass.

"You're a monster." she whispers. She sounds as if she is weeping. Loki smiles.

"Oh, no. You brought the monster."

"So, Banner? That's your play?" she asks, turning. There is not a single tear drop on her cheeks, no blush at what they have just done.

"What?" he asks, surprised, as she puts up a hand to activate her ear piece.

"Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Set the door locked."

She drops her hand from the ear piece and nods at Loki, picking up her clothes and dressing surprisingly quickly.

"Thank you, for your cooperation."

But before she can walk away, Loki grabs her, lifting her into the air by her throat…

Natasha Romanoff wakes up, stifling a gasp. She had not intended to catnap, not now, not while the Hulk rampages somewhere, while the ship is under attack. It is enough that she sits here, clutching her knees like a little girl. As from far away she hears Fury mention Barton. She must pull herself together.

From his cell, Loki smiles. Magic is a subtle art, and he prefers to use it carefully while imprisoned. Little bits here and there. Small spells to help him listen to all the areas he walked through on the way here. One of his spells murmurs. Agent Romanoff has awakened. Her mind is out of his reach. For now.

He leans languidly against the wall of his prison. Such an enjoyable dream to plant- or nightmare, perhaps, from her point of view. He knows the effect he has on mortal women, but he is not sure if it extends to the Widow.

A few minutes later, he is free of cell and ship. And as he flies away, he smiles.

* * *

A/N: I like reviews. Criticisms, critiques, comments, I'll take them all :) Suggestions are welcome too. Next chapter will move things ahead to post-battle.


	3. Chapter 3

During the battle, he notices her little. He is preoccupied with Stark, and Thor, then with the Hawk and the Hulk. He knows he slipped, forgetting Barton's arrows and their more… unusual properties. And scolding the Hulk was not, perhaps, one of his most shining moments.

As he lies there, briefly stunned, he considers. The Avengers, damn them, will triumph. He knows it in his bones. Now he had best look to himself. The Chitauri have failed him.

None but Thor will disposed towards mercy. And after the little knife, even Thor may not be of help. He does not trust the people of Earth. They may be pitiful, but they are not so familiar as Asgardians. He knows Thor will want to take him home, regardless. All he need do is be a cordial, well behaved prisoner for however long it takes before they return him to Asgard.

He sits up slowly to find he has company. Jesting seems the thing to do, especially as there is an arrow aimed at his forehead.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll take that drink now," he says to Stark, smiling in a way that he knows is usually well received. The response is underwhelming, but anticipated.

While chains are made for him, Mjolnir rests on his chest to subdue him. They have also cuffed him with plain metal, but Loki knows they do not trust the metal to hold. It would not against Thor- nor against Loki, if it suited him to break free.

At last Stark and Banner finish with the chains. They hum quietly, though Loki suspects only one attuned to magic would hear it.

Once they have locked his hands, Mjolnir returns to Thor's hand. Loki is allowed to stand, and he smiles.

"Such trouble you go to to restrain me? I have offered no resistance."

"Yes, and that's what makes me nervous," Fury growls from nearby. He arrived while Stark and Banner were finishing the chains.

"Loki has no army, no scepter. He is harmless, for now," Thor says. Barton starts to stand, looking fierce.

"I said for now. If it suited him to make trouble, I dare say he could."

Loki smiles, now without humor.

"You hear my brother. I have no army, no scepter. My hands are bound by chains that would surely contain even the mighty Thor. Why do you all still seem so wary?" he asks, spreading his hands in a conciliatory gesture, chains clinking.

Noise erupts almost immediately.

"Wary? You want to know-" says Captain America.

"You tried to destroy-"

"Haven't slept in days-"

"-my tower, threw me out of a window-"

"STOP!"

And there is silence. The Black Widow glares at all of them, despite her lack of stature.

"Are you all stupid?" She asks, staring down each man in turn.

"Look at him smiling. He did that on purpose. And until someone builds a gag to match those chains, he's going to have us at each other's throats."

The heroes glare at each other. Stark is out of armor, but his arc reactor is glowing more brightly than usual. Thor grips Mjolnir tightly, while Barton has one hand resting on the holster at his hip. Fury and Banner look startled, the Widow, angry. Loki shrugs mockingly from his seat.

"Why should I do that? I merely asked why you all appear so wary."

"We need someplace to put him while you two work on the gag," the Captain says, looking at Stark and Banner.

"I've got some rooms in the basement- it's where I test out new armor, prototypes, that sort of thing," Stark offers.

"Secure?" the Captain asks firmly.

"Very."

The Captain nods stiffly.

"I suggest we put him in one of them then. Who will guard him?"

"I can-"

"No." the Captain says firmly. Thor frowns.

"He is your brother, you shouldn't be the one. Nothing personal."

"Agent Barton?" the Captain asks. "Stark and Banner will need to work on the chains, and I'd like to clear some things with Director Fury."

Barton shakes his head.

"I haven't slept since he took me from the base. I've running on fumes, Captain."

"I'll do it," the Widow says, voice strong and no-nonsense. Loki smiles inwardly as the Captain nods. Oh, this should be fun.

* * *

A/N: Comments=love. The next chapter will be LONG. I couldn't find good places to break it into smaller chunks.


	4. Chapter 4

fThe testing room has been cleared of equipment, but for a few benches and chairs. The walls are some sort of padded metal, and the door is locked tightly. As there are no windows, and they don't dare leave him unobserved, the Black Widow sits in the cell with him.

"Natasha," Loki says, sitting on a bench and inclining his head. She remains standing, and silent.

"Nothing? I believe you, at least, are not afraid of me," he says.

"You threw Stark across a room and out of a window, without any armor on him."

"He survived, nonetheless."

"You aren't Thor, but your strength is still greater than Stark or Barton, and probably equal to the Captain. You don't care who gets hurt, you don't have any known limits. Except, of course, you prefer being clever to brawling."

Loki tilts his head and smiles.

"Of course. Only those who cannot think lower themselves to fighting like animals. I outwit my opponents."

Agent Romanoff smiles.

"And yet you told me about Banner." She says, with one soft chuckle.

"A minor detail," he sneers, but he is suddenly furious. He had not intended to let slip that detail. To be outwitted, however briefly, by a pathetic, mortal female…

He watches her carefully. She is just as dirty as the others from battle, small smudges of blood here and there. Her eyes are hard, but he detects a flickering in them. Oh, she is afraid.

"You've told me everything about you," he snarls, rage building as she steps back.

"The woman with blood on her hands, atoning by working for those with higher morals and plans than she ever could possess. Pretending that because she gets her hands dirty, children will sleep safe at night, women remain unviolated, men saved from death."

Her eyes have gone wide, but Loki sees she is holding back the fear. He will have to truly frighten her, then.

"You think you are immune to my tongue? How did you sleep after you tricked the information about Banner from me?"

She goes pale.

"You did that, didn't you. With magic." She says, not really asking. Loki smiles.

"A pleasant diversion while I waited to escape. You've used your body against so many. I wonder if you can still enjoy yourself in that way, or if Barton deludes himself."

Natasha slaps him.

"I do not respond well to violence," Loki snarls, suddenly gripping her by the throat.

Natasha is, for once, startled. The chains were supposed to hold- then she sees Loki sitting on his bench. But he is here as well, ten feet away, hands on her throat, chains gone.

"I let them chain an illusion, while I remained invisible to mortal sight" Loki breathes quietly, as more and more of him appear around her. Hands grip her wrists behind her back, they tug at her zipper and pull at her boots.

Natasha is trained for many things, but not for seven- seven, there are seven around her, and one on the bench, eight total- Asgardians all clustered around her, touching her, groping her. Some are in full battle gear, helmet and all, others in trench coats and suits.

"I could make your clothes disappear, but this way is more fun," a Loki whispers, tongue tracing the shell of her ear.

She is naked now, and she feels one Loki tying her wrists together with something- something silky and strong. Her back presses against what feels like a stake- why did Thor not tell them more about magic? Her legs are spread, parts of the floor rising and curling around her ankles to bind her.

"Vulnerability," Loki whispers, now only two of him, the one on the bench and the one before her.

"You offer it up, and men take it, and in return give up their secrets. Fools. You were never vulnerable in the first place."

Natasha focuses on breathing. He is right. She is never truly vulnerable. Tied to a chair, in an empty warehouse, she can easily break free at any time. When violence doesn't work, she seduces, she flatters or threatens. But she cannot figure out a way to escape these bonds, though her hands carefully wiggle, trying to find a weak point in the binding.

"If you're going to do that, I'm afraid I can't be so lenient," Loki says, suddenly behind her.

The silken binding vanishes, replaced with cool metal. There is no lock or chain that she can find. It feels as though the metal has been formed in the exact shape of her wrists, only tighter.

"I had intended to do this more gently," he murmurs, placing a gloved hand on her breast.

"Soft words, tales of a pitiful childhood, of jealousy and envy and regret. And when you thought me misunderstood, pitiful, handsome, then I would have let you work your wiles on me."

Natasha's eyes widen. Barton has told him so very much, even more than she might have assumed.

"The chains would remain on, of course, you would never have unchained me, but you'd have kissed and licked and sucked and- what is the word they use for it here in Midgard? _Fucked_ me. Just in case afterwards, sated and pliable, I would spill up my secrets."

It is a tactic she prefers not to use, but is a very effective one. She had not yet considered using it on Loki, but she might have. His prescience makes her shiver.

"No… none of that for you," Loki says, voice cold.

"You had to taunt me. I doubt this was the result you were aiming for. The famous Black Widow. Bound. Truly vulnerable in a way I doubt you've been in years. Tell me, do you think the others will notice?"

Natasha is panting, beads of cold sweat running down her chest.

"You are used to working alone. You told Stark not to worry that his testing rooms lack surveillance equipment. You told them you could handle me. When will they come and look in on us? I heard Stark and Banner, they think it will take a few days to make a gag I cannot spit out."

"You're just another day's work for me," Natasha says, finally deciding how she wants to play this.

"Really?" he asks, amusement creeping back into his face, pushing back the rage.

"You won't want to risk staying here. You need to get back to Asgard, where things are familiar. You'll go with Thor once everything is ready. You won't kill me. That would make things too messy." She says, mustering her own smile. It feels more like a grimace.

Loki chuckles, looking pleased.

"A clever thought. And it is true I do not wish to remain on Earth, unless I rule it. But you said it yourself- I cannot kill you. That does not prevent me from doing other things. And I know you well- you will not want to admit to anyone that you have been outplayed. Overpowered."

Natasha's heart rate is accelerating, whether she wants it to or not. She may not tell exactly what happened, but she is not too proud to call for backup.

"Come here!" she says, leaning her head to activate her ear piece.

She hears nothing.

"Were you looking for this?" Loki asks, holding up a tiny, flesh colored ball. She pales even further.

"I took the liberty of removing it earlier, while I was invisible. You can have it back when I'm done with you."

Now Natasha can feel fear deep in her stomach, fear she has not felt in years.

"How is it, being vulnerable?" Loki asks, slowly pulling off his glove.

She does not answer. Instead, she watches his hands. He does not seem like a torturer. But Banner said his mind was like a bag of cats. What he seems like can change in a moment.

He slaps one glove against the other hand. The noise makes her jump.

"Ah, if only I'd thought to bind you kneeling." He smiles.

"But we can do that later."

He discards both gloves, and rests his hands on her breasts. He looms over her, nearly as tall as Thor.

"Fortunately for you, I don't glory in brutality like your so-called heroes. I prefer more amiable arrangements," he says, dragging his tongue against her neck and up towards her ear.

"I have seen Thor rip off the limbs of his enemies, or smash in their heads in one blow. Your Captain, the virtuous soldier, tosses his shield hither and yon, glad to see it destroy. Stark- well, he blew plenty of Chitauri to bits today, but explosions don't care who they tear apart, do they?"

He nibbles her ear gently.

"As for the Hulk, well. He smashes everything, doesn't he? Nearly including you. And Barton's history is as spotted as your own. He told me he enjoyed being one of the best, did you know that? He likes to see his targets fall, and know he caused their ruin."

Now Loki's mouth is on her throat, and he sucks for a moment, feeling her pulse race. He smiles, then drags his tongue down, slowly, until it reaches one hardened nipple. He traces swirls around it, then bites. Natasha whimpers, and Loki sucks the nipple into his mouth.

While he sucks, one hand grips her shoulder, the other resting on her hip. She always wears clothing that covers most of her skin, and that is to his advantage. He can grip hard enough to bruise and rest easy that the others will never know.

Tired of suckling, he pulls away from her breast. His fingers quickly replace his mouth as he tugs and tweaks at both nipples. His mouth descends upon hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She struggles, but he is too strong. He eases his lips over hers, thrusting his tongue in and out. When he feels her begin to go limp, he stops and steps away from her.

"Barton told me you are less than fond of kissing." Loki says. She pants, trying to ignore him.

But that proves difficult as Loki gestures at one of the pieces of metal from his armor. It breaks off from the rest and then splits in two pieces. They hover in the air, then float toward her nipples. The metal thins until it is smaller than a wedding band, then one metal piece fastens around each nipple, tightening until she gasps.

"I am above brutality, but there is nothing like a little pain to remind you of your place," Loki says, smiling.

With a quick step he presses his lips against hers again, both hands wrapped in her hair. Her lips are soft, her mouth warm. Loki is enjoying himself. He has not had time for diversions such as this, not since his fall from the Bifrost.

He continues the kiss for long minutes, alternating between rough, demanding kisses where his tongue plunges into her mouth, demanding her submission, and soft, yielding kisses where his lips simply ease over hers, tongue lightly slipping into her mouth.

Silvertongue, they called him once. His tongue has ever served him well, and he feels the thrill of triumph as the Black Widow becomes ever more supple and soft against him. But he means to truly undo her. To climb into her mind and take her out, and put himself there instead.

And so he stops kissing her, and drags his tongue down to flick at her nipples, sucking each one briefly, then down past her stomach to the hairless slit between her legs. The maidens of Asgard would be perplexed, but Loki immediately decides he likes this. It allows her to hide nothing from his gaze. He gently pulls apart the puffy, rosy lips, and sees to his satisfaction that she is very, very wet.

A wave of his hand, and the stake between her arms disappears, and the restraints on her ankles vanish. She struggles for a moment as he picks her up and slams her flat on a bench. For a split second her hands too are free, before he binds them again, this time under the bench. Her legs are splayed out wide, and he again pulls metal from the floor to hold her ankles in place.

Then Loki sits on the bench between her legs and leans over, keeping eye contact with her until his tongue nudges apart her nether lips. She wiggles, but he places a firm hand on each thigh, holding them down in a tight grip.

His tongue flickers and strokes, teasing the small bud which makes her moan. Then down, down to the pink hole, and he stiffens his tongue and thrusts it inside her, then out, then in and out as she grows more agitated. He releases her thighs and instead uses his hands to hold the lips apart, giving him a better view of his banquet.

One thumb rubs lazy circles against her nub, while he continues stroking her inside with his tongue. Then, faster, as her whimpers grow louder and her body shudders. All too soon she cries out.

"Am I not considerate?" Loki asks, sitting up and looking her in the eye, her juices still smeared across his mouth.

She pants in reply. It is not worth answering him, for any answer she gives will betray her in some way. Loki laughs at her silence.

"Well, I've been selfish. You were made to kneel, not to lie here on your back."

He snaps, and the bench disappears. Without it to support her weight, she almost falls, but manages shove her bound hands against the floor and push herself up. Her knees fall to the floor, and, to her shame, she finds she is kneeling before Loki.

Before her eyes his armor shimmers away, leaving him in a trench coat, suit jacket, white shirt and black tie. Then those shimmer away as well, and he is naked.

Natasha is not surprised to notice he is much less muscular than Thor. Or than the Captain. But there is a gracefulness in the sleek, lean muscles that Natasha hates herself for noticing. He is pale, and there is little hair on his body, but for a sparse nest of curls around his cock.

To Natasha's annoyance, it is not small. She has found that with many men, the more angry and aggressive, the smaller the cock. There have been a few exceptions here and there, but none so annoying as this one.

It is already hard, and by Natasha's estimate, longer than any she has seen. It is thick, and a little darker than the rest of him. It pulses as Loki steps forward. She doesn't doubt that if she bites, he will strangle her.

And so, ever so carefully, she stands on her knees and licks the shaft. Loki smiles, closing his eyes for a brief moment. This part will be easy for her. She has had plenty of practice, after all.

With slow movements she licks up and down the shaft, then opens her mouth and gently sucks in the tip. For someone who has been in a battle, Loki smells surprisingly clean. One of his hands strokes her hair, and she takes it as encouragement to let more of his shaft slide into her mouth. As the head hits the back of her throat she shifts, changing the angle and suppressing her gag reflex. She is unable to manage all of it, but she sucks in as much as she can.

Then she begins to move, pulling away until he almost slips from between her lips, then plunging him back into her throat. Her jaw already aches, but she ignores it. The bands on her nipples ache, and her knees are cramping. But Natasha is determined. He will not see her weakness.

She continues to suck until he pulls away, still smiling.

"Is it not more comfortable, on your knees?" He asks. She still refuses to answer, and he looks carefully at her trembling legs.

"No, I see not." With a lazy wave, her bonds vanish. She crumples to the floor for a moment, then drags herself to her feet, putting up her hands as she shakily takes a fighting stance.

"Oh, and I thought we were getting along so well," Loki purrs. Suddenly he vanishes, only to appear behind her, pulling her back against his chest.

"Attack, and you'll wish you hadn't, believe me. You've no armor, no hammer, no shield. When I am angered, I sometimes act… hastily. You think you feared the Hulk? His anger will seem as nothing compared to mine."

One arm wraps possessively around her waist, while the other strokes her breasts. Both of the metal rings drop to the floor and vanish when he touches them. He presses a kiss against her neck.

"Keeping you restrained is simple, but it is tiresome. Cooperation will provide more pleasure for both of us."

With yet another wave of his hand, the bench reappears and grows in size. A plush green padding covers it now, and Loki gently pulls Natasha with him as he moves toward it. Then, in one swift movement, he sweeps one arm under her knees and the other against her back, picking her up and placing her on the almost-bed.

She lies there, staring at the ceiling, while Loki sits down beside her. One hand idly plays with her hair, while the other strokes her neck.

"Why so still, Tessa?" He asks. She flinches.

"Only Barton calls you that, I know, but given the circumstances, I thought it appropriate." Loki smiles, a small smile that strikes Natasha as playful. She focuses. All is not lost. He is unguarded, now, secure in his superiority.

Slowly she reaches out a hand to his pale, lean chest. Let him think her to be surrendering. She quiets the voice in her mind that insists she is. Encouraged by her response, Loki leans down and kisses her.

This time, Natasha truly yields. Her mouth eases over his, allowing his tongue easy entrance. In return he plunders her mouth, but more gently than before. Her hands skim over his broad shoulders and down his chest to lightly stroke his erection. The response is immediate as he deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close. Her breasts are crushed against his chest, and her hands can no longer reach his shaft. But he does not seem to object, instead relishing the kiss.

Loki sees no need for Natasha to know that he does not usually kiss either, and would not have kissed her but for Barton specifically mentioning she doesn't like it. And yet kisses seem more pleasant than he remembered.

Loki rolls over on top of Natasha, not letting go of her nor stopping the kiss. Carefully he adjusts himself until he can feel her quim against the head of his shaft. Then he smiles and releases the kiss. Natasha looks at him, and her eyes are no longer frightened, but pleading. Loki's smile widens as he presses into her, shifting himself into position until he slides his shaft home.

Natasha moans softly, eyes closing and lips parting with pleasure. For once she is not pretending enjoyment where there is none, or feigning fear when she is the one in control.

For now, only this once, she is allowing herself to be honest. She suspects it will be most effective with Loki anyway.

She lets out another groan as he thrusts in, one hand reaching down to play with her clit. He rolls it between thumb and forefinger, making her rock her hips. He sets a steady rhythm- thrust in, thrust out, roll clit, kiss her, then thrust in, thrust out, and it repeats. He is going very, very slowly. She isn't sure if it is for his pleasure, or to delay hers, but she decides not to think about it. It feels too good to worry.

He begins to pick up the pace, now constantly rubbing her clit with one long finger, his pale back flexing as he drives into her. Suddenly he pulls her to the side, until her legs dangle from the bed and he stands, still plunging into her. Against her will, Natasha is impressed at his dexterity.

Her hands cannot reach his back, though she feels a strange urge to grasp his shoulders. Instead she clenches her fists, letting her head fall back as she moans. Loki is smiling again, a strange, almost gleeful smile. Suddenly she feels hands caressing her breasts, though Loki's hands are currently on her hips, pulling her onto his cock as he thrusts.

Soft lips kiss her on the throat while a warm tongue traces her ear and fingers tweak her nipples. She wonders how many Lokis are currently attending her, then lets the thought fade as a tongue drags its way up her collarbone. It is too overwhelming.

Loki- the real one- pulls her up into a sitting position, then leans down to kiss her. Hands are all over her breasts and back, running fingers through her hair, mouths are pressing kisses on her spine and the nape of her neck. Loki's tongue wraps around her own as he slams into her faster and faster and everything is blurring and it is too much, too much sensation and Loki picks her up without missing a thrust and she clutches his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist as all the other hands and mouths vanish and it is too much, she can feel herself unraveling as she screams into his mouth but Loki doesn't stop, he is still inside of her, still filling her, still possessing her, and his thrusts are slower now, but they go even deeper, and she can feel her head spinning and her mouth whimpering and she comes for the third time as Loki growls and comes with her.

In the afterglow, all is silence. Loki, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, conjures a silken sheet to cover the padding on the bench, and lies down. Natasha has not moved from the spot on the bench where Loki put her down. Her thoughts, completely overwhelmed by sex, have now returned. Her mind swirls for some time, turning over various ideas and thoughts. But one thought keeps floating to the surface. She just had sex with Loki. No, not exactly- Loki just had sex with her. No, that isn't right either.

Loki _fucked _her.

And she liked it.

This is a problem. Incredible sex is hard to come by, but nothing will decrease Loki's death count. It must be far higher than eighty by now. She thinks back to the conversation on the helicarrier. Loki's ledger is probably even with hers now. Then again, Thor mentioned something about an attack on another realm, Jotunheim? She thinks that was the name. Surely that would drive the count up far higher.

She frowns and tries to remember exactly what Loki said.

"_Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous_

_than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at_

_prayer. Pathetic! You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be_

_separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a_

_part of you, and they will never go away."_

Loki has no code. None that they've found, anyway. He hasn't directly murdered someone by hand, though he did blast plenty of SHIELD operatives when he stole the tesseract. Less messy, to kill from a distance? He threw Tony Stark out of a window, true- intent to kill, but less effective than slicing Tony's throat with his spear. He stabbed Thor- but it was a minor wound that barely slowed Thor down.

He isn't trying.

Not that that diminishes the horror Loki has caused. Dead bodies in the streets of New York- that cannot be easily forgiven. And from the sound of it… Loki doesn't care.

A cold feeling creeps up her spine. Pathetic. Sentimentality. A child at prayer. Loki knows he has a ledger of his own, he must have noticed. Even from a distance, deaths are still tallied to his account. And rather than atone for it, rather than even attempt to make amends, he glories in his ledger. He rolls in the mud, growing ever dirtier.

Natasha turns quietly to look at Loki. His eyes are closed, and his pale chest rises and falls slowly. His face is relaxed, smiling gently in sleep. The wrinkles around his eyes are gone, and his limbs are splayed.

How is this the monster who is responsible for so many deaths?

With the edge of the silk sheet, Natasha dabs off the sweat from her body, then cleans between her legs. She feels no need to walk around with Loki's seed inside her. Once she is clean, or as clean as she can make herself without a shower, she sits down beside Loki's head and begins stroking his hair.

It feels greasy against her hands, and she wonders when he last washed. Or slept, for that matter. He doesn't seem like the type to sleep when his defenses have been breached. Either he is very, very tired, or he does not register her as a threat. Probably both. She's not sure she could kill him if she tried.

Natasha wishes she could help him. She remembers what it was like before Barton came- before she worked for SHIELD. Loki is right, she will never clear her ledger, but at least she is trying. The past few days have been exhausting, and she's looked death in the face, but she still feels a warm glow. She helped save the world. That has to count for something.

It takes four days to build the muzzle. In that time Loki fucks her senseless as often as possible. Food is delivered outside the door, and Natasha eats whenever Loki falls asleep. He catnaps after each time they have sex. She sleeps when she is done eating, but invariably she wakes up to warm lips on her neck and fingers stroking her breasts.

Natasha notices immediately that Loki eats nothing. This problem she solves quickly by allowing herself to look enthusiastic about various items of food- he eats whatever she expresses too much interest in. Thankfully, he is none the wiser that she hates mushrooms and veal. On the last day, soon after she has heard through the ear piece- now returned to her- that the muzzle is almost ready, Loki gives half of the strawberries to her, despite her feigned interest in them.

She isn't sure what to make of that.

When the time comes for them to leave the cell, Loki submits to the chains. He knows as well as she does that the tesseract portal Tony has been building (while Bruce finishes the muzzle) will only work if Loki is standing exactly where everyone expects him to be- chained, muzzled, and gripping one end of the portal.

Loki silent is a strange thing. He talked plenty during their time in the cell. Natasha has a good memory, and she knows they will spend weeks analyzing all that he has told her, trying to pick apart lies from truth. But the muzzle is strong, and keeps his jaw completely immobile. Natasha wonders if he is allowing the muzzle, or if it is too much for him to fight. Most of his wounds have already healed from the battle, so he should be back to full strength soon.

What will Asgard do with him? Four days to ponder, and Natasha has no idea. Loki is strange. His mind twists and turns constantly. She has seen him gentle, tender, and even jesting. She has also seen him seethe and rage and shout. It will take weeks for the bite marks on her breasts and neck to fade, let alone the bruises on her shoulders and hips.

The shame will take far longer.

_~Fin~_

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A/N: Yes, we just had 4,000+ words of Loki/Natasha hatesex. What did you guys think? My next fic will be Loki/Jane, set between_ Thor_ and _The Avengers_. Suggestions for new fics are always appreciated :)


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